Sherlock's Daughter
by Dina K.D
Summary: The story of Sherlock Holmes: a consulting detective, a sociopath, a father…
1. Chapter 1

**Sherlock**

"I thought we agreed to keep our distance" I told the woman standing across the hall, who had her back turned to me.

Taking the risk of meeting me at all indicated that she was in real troubles, but the fact that she chose the hospital as the meeting place screamed emergency.

"We've got a problem" she finally turned to me, then simply said "I'm pregnant".

I had to lower my gaze, as when she turned it immediately fell on her delicate face which my keen eyes did notice were plumer than usual. Looking down to her stomach area I saw a big round belly, obvious even under the loose blue dress she was wearing.

"How far along?" was all I could ask, praying the timeline won't add up.

"Pretty far… They want to induce me in the next hour".

"I see." The timeline added up perfectly, though perhaps 'perfect' wasn't the most suitable word to describe the situation.

I kept a calm expression but felt like I've been kicked in the stomach. She must've seen through this as she said "Don't worry, she'll be with me".

"Obviously" I said, regaining my composure "So why am I here then?"

"No reason really, just thought you could help me out here and there, massaging my feet, putting some pillows behind by back, holding my hand as I push, you know, husband's stuff" she stressed the word 'husband' knowing it would irritate me to no end.

I was about to reply when the doors to our right opened and a nurse said "Eve, we're ready. Shall we start the induction?"

"Yes, I'll be there in a minute." She said with a smile as the nurse disappeared once again, the double doors swinging behind her.

"Eve?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Mother of all, seemed fitting…" Irene Adler smirked.

~*O*~

Four hours into her second bag of Pitocin, and three hours into active labor Irene, I mean, Eve was breathing heavily through the contractions that were growing closer by the minute.

"There, there" I said "just a little bit more and you would get to push a creature the size of a watermelon out of your teeny-tiny body" I added with an evil grin.

"Oh you're enjoying every minute of it, aren't you" she gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to scream or to bite my head off.

"Can't say you don't deserve it… With what you do for living I thought birth-control was a given." I too was busy pushing - her to the limit.

"I was on birth-control! Two!" She practically yelled.

"Hush now wifey, we wouldn't want to draw everyone's attention." I said, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

"Argh!" she sighed with annoyance as another contraction took over.

~*O*~

All was over.

Irene stood next to her hospital bed, already out of the hospital robe. She signed an early discharge form and was intending to leave with the baby as soon as possible.

 _So that's why she refused to have Epidural_ I thought, knowing she would still be numb waist down right now, had she had it.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to be up and about so soon?" I asked, hoping I don't come across like I care.

"Well, it's not a good idea for me to be in one place for too long." She said, gathering her things.

"Quite the lifestyle for a newborn." I mumbled.

"Well, do you want to take her then?" she asked in what I kind of thought was a hopeful tone.

I looked at her as I calmly explained: "I shoot my gun at the wall when I'm bored, I have swords standing next to the fire place and generally I find non-sharp objects to be boring. She's better off with you".

"Right" she shook her head "Be a dear and fetch our daughter from the nursery for me."

I wasn't a master when it came to understanding people's emotion but this was obviously her way of asking for some time alone so without another word I turned and left the room, heading for the nursery.

~*O*~

The baby was laying in her crib, eyes wide open, completely silent while all around her other babies were screaming bloody murder.

I picked her up and studied her face. I found it utterly ridiculous when parents tried to find similarities between them and the babies' squashed faces, yet her short, black strands of hair and piercing blue eyes were, without a doubt, a Holmes' trademark.

"Well, what do you know? I'm a father! and Mycroft said nothing would ever come of me…" I whispered in her ear, put her back to the crib, and started rolling it towards her mother's room.

~*O*~

When I got there, Irene was gone, and so were her belongings.

On the pillow stood a note with Irene's neat handwriting:

It read "A little something to remember me by…"

 _Oh no…_

~*O*~

 ** _A/N:_** _First chapter…_

 _My daughter just turned 10 weeks old and while taking care of her the inspiration for this story came to life._

 _I thought at first to write it as a series of drabbles describing Sherlock's journey as a father and his relationship with his daughter but seeing as I'm on my maternity leave I have a lot of free time on my hands and came up with a full story in which I would try to inject the original drabbles I first came up with._

 _P.S. please excuse the short summary and simple title. I usually love coming up with some witty word-play for my story but I thought it would be best to give the reader a specific idea of what he's getting himself into._

 _Reviews are much appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

**John**

"Sherlock, you have got to stop abusing coffee it's the third jar I'm buying this mon…" My reprimand was cut off by the sight that greeted me when I crossed the flight of stairs that lead to our apartment.

Our home in 221B Baker Street have known its share of strange visitors: A 103 years old gypsy fortune teller, an Elvis impersonator, two goats, a dead body, and those are just off the top of my head, yet I came home to find the strangest visitor yet sitting right in front of me…

"Sherlock... What's on our coffee table?" I said slowly.

"Ah, John, once again your wise questions never cease to amaze me. I shall use my deduction skill to help you solve the mystery. Let's see what we've got shall we? annoying whining, trail of endless drool and the unbearable stench of a full diaper? Why, I think it's safe to say that it's a baby" Sherlock lectured sarcastically, his voice coming from across the apartment, sounding nasal for some reason. He then emerged from the kitchen with a clothes peg fastened to his nose.

I wanted to comment on how absurd it is that he was dissecting bodies without a care yet had to seal his nose in the presence of an ordinary baby but I was still too confused.

"Yes I know it's a baby, I meant why is he here?" I explained to him the way one does to a toddler.

"It's a she."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said it's a she, it's a girl" Sherlock said and approached the carry cot in which the baby was laying. He picked her up, holding her at arm's length, "Now, I think this diaper needs a change of baby…" he commented once realizing just how full the diaper was.

I followed them to the bathroom as Sherlock removed the baby's diaper, put it safely in a biohazard bag he was usually using to store his experiments' equipment and then put the baby in the sink. He lifted a bucket of water that sat on the floor and prepared to empty it on the poor thing when I stopped him,

"Sherlock, NO! That's not how you change a baby's diaper" I said, snatching the bucket from him, putting it aside then led the baby to the safety of our living room, this time with Sherlock following us.

"Right, we're going to change her diaper and then you're going to sit down and tell me what the hell is going on!" I instructed.

~*O*~

"So… you had sex…" I said slowly.

"Yes John, that's how babies usually come to this world" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"No, I meant, **you** had sex" I stressed, still having a hard time processing what he told me.

"For heaven's sake John, I'm a sociopath, not an impotent" He was clearly irritated as he leapt from his chair, ran his hand through his hair in a nervous manner and looked at the baby who was sleeping in my arms.

"How did you know what to buy for her?" I asked, studying the pile of baby products that was waiting in our kitchen. It seemed to have everything a baby might need from baby powder and burping clothes to cans of formula.

"Her cunning mother bought it all. She must have planned it all in advance" Sherlock was pacing back and forth. I looked down to the infant cuddled in my arms.

"What do you call her?" I asked.

"Nuisance?" he offered.

"Nuis…" I let my head fall in despair "I meant name Sherlock! How would you name her?"

"Abigail"

I was taken aback by his immediate response, "Why?..." I asked suspiciously. I knew Abigail was a Hebrew name meaning 'Joy of the Father' and right now the father seemed everything but joyful…

"While in the hospital I happened to read a list of names sorted alphabetically and it was the first one there so naturally…" he trailed off once he realized I was making the face I used whenever he was just too much to bear, so - always.

"Relax, she chose it. She had it engraved to a bracelet and all" he explained.

I then noticed a golden bracelet around the baby's wrist, with a ladybug medallion dangling from it and sure enough the name Abigail was engraved to it in cursive letters. She had her ears pierced as well and wore a pair of golden earrings, each with a shiny red stone in the middle.

"Alright… So Abigail it is" I concluded "Abigail Holmes".

"Adler" Sherlock corrected.

"Why can't she have your sure name?" I wondered.

"Because Abigail Adler makes better initials than Abigail Holmes".

"Oh…" I said not sure how to reply.

"My god, you're so thickwitted it's actually endearing… BECAUSE I'M NOT GOING TO KEEP HER!" Sherlock said in an outburst, causing the newborn to wake up, crying for her missing mother and estranged father.

"She must be hungry, here, hold her and I will make her a bottle" I said loudly to overcome her wailing.

I handed her to Sherlock, much to his dismay, but the moment she was in his arms she stopped waving her hands and legs frantically, ceased her crying and buried her face in his scarf.

"Aw look! She likes you." I told him heartedly.

Suddenly she produced an inhuman voice and threw up an unreasonable amount of milky goo all over Sherlock. He couldn't have been more shocked if he was struck by a lightning.

I burst out in laughter, holding my stomach, tears filling my eyes as I heard Sherlock shouting, this time to overcome my hysterical laugh:

"That's it! Get Mycroft on the phone! She's going back to her mother!"

~*O*~

 ** _A/N:_** _How do you like the story so far?_

 _I hope I wrote it well enough for you to be able to picture it as an actual scene from the show, with Sherlock being his arrogant self, and John being generally exhausted from having to deal with it._

 _I find that putting a story under the "Humor" genre is quite the risk as it might be difficult to write something that would actually humor the reader, but I know I had a smile on my face just writing this so let me know if it made you laugh, or at least smile…_

 _Reviews are much appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

**Sherlock**

"So… you had sex…" Mycroft asked, playing with the head of his cane.

"Yes. Why does everyone think this is the purpose of the story?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Well, I always thought it would be John who would find himself as a single parent… but wonders never cease." Mycroft said with a meaningful look.

"Now wait a minute…" John protested but I interrupted him, "Oh please, he probably has a legion of bastards all over the place, he's just lucky enough to not having to own up to them."

John stared at me and Mycroft in turns then muttered "unbelievable…", threw his hands in the air and turned his back to us, walking away angrily.

Mycroft walked to the sofa on which Abigail was laying, surrounded in pillows (John's idea for safety measurements which I found completely unnecessary considering she could barely turn her head, much less her whole body).

"Hello there, niece of mine." Mycroft said leaning over, studying her face, then caressed her chick ever so lightly.

"Don't get too attached Mycroft, she's going back to her mother the minute I find her." I warned.

"Good luck with that," he said, his eyes never leaving Abigail, "I've had my best men trying to locate her for months now and she never once went over our radar."

"I'm better than your best men. I will find her".

"Be my guest, Mi case es su case" Mycroft delivered the corny word-play with a hint of amusement.

~*O*~

Parenting was difficult at first, but I think I got the hang of it. The key is to act completely incompetent when dealing with baby-related chores:

 **7 A.M.**

"Sherlock, when was the last time you gave her a bath?" John asked, after sniffing Abigail's hair.

"I was going to, but apparently, that's not how you change a diaper, remember?" I reminded him of the bucket incident…

"That was two days ago! Go fill the sink with warm water." John ordered.

"Fine, fine" I said, walking to the bathroom. I turned the faucet handle all the way to the left, watching as hot steams rose from the sink. Then turning it off I yelled "it's ready".

John walked into the room, "Great, let me just check the temperature… AH!" he pulled away rubbing his elbow.

 _Had you used the observation tricks I tried teaching you, you would have realized the steam on the mirror._ I thought to myself.

"You said warm water" I tried sounding as innocent as possible.

"Warm, not boiling. Let me!" he pushed me aside and started preparing the bath all over again.

 **7:15 A.M.**

"Right, this is an overall, should be easy enough for you to dress her in this" John approached me, handing Abigail to me, engulfed in a towel then a diaper and a piece of cloth I figured was an overall.

"Also, rub some of this on her face. Her skin is a bit dry."

"Alright, alright, let me!" I pretended to be enthusiastic and rubbed my hands together, folding my sleeves.

Five minutes later I made my way to where John was sitting, reading a book.

"I think she needs a bigger size" I told him. He sent a short look to our direction then had to do a double take once looking at Abigail.

It wasn't easy, but I managed to dress her in her overall inside out and upside down. She could barely move her arms, and the hole that was supposed to be for her head, now exposed her diaper. As a final touch, I put a generous amount of face-cream all over her face, then barely rubbed it in, causing her to look like a scary clown.

John didn't even know where to start, so he simply rolled his eyes, grabbed her, and walked away as I celebrated my victory quietly.

 **10 A.M.**

"Sherlock, she's crying, a little help please?" Mrs. Hudson was trying to soothe Abigail by cuddling her in her arms and singing.

"I think you should stop these squeaks you call singing, that would be a big help!" I rubbed my temples impatiently.

Mrs. Husdon gave me an offended look "She's hungry! Get her some food." she scolded.

"Sure" I leapt from my chair and went to the kitchen, coming back with…

"Is that a sandwich?" Mrs. Hudson was puzzled.

"Not just a sandwich, **the** sandwich – PB &J, I read it's kids' favorite" I defended the meal.

"She's a little baby Sherlock, she can't eat that… never mind, I'll go make her some proper food".

And with that she was gone. For someone who kept insisting she wasn't my housekeeper she made a hell of a nanny.

 **2 P.M.**

"Oh, it's time for her to take a nap, Sherlock you need to put her to sleep" John said over his newspaper.

"O.k. but I think it's time you'd stop sitting around and lend a hand", I complained like a tired housewife, earning a death glare from him.

"There little Abbie, let's get some shuteye, shall we?" I picked her up over my shoulder and turning around I raised my thumb up to John, mouthing "I've got this!" to which he replied with a nod and a tired head shake.

Ten minutes later John entered the room, "Is she asleep yet?".

"No." I whispered, "I tried offering her a dummy but she wouldn't take it!" I then continued to give a live demonstration – "There Abbie, take the dummy." I dangled the thing in front of her and when she didn't reach for it I turned to John "See?".

John was exhausted, "Sherlock… you need to put it in her mouth, she can't reach out to grab it at such a young age", he snatched the dummy from my hands and put it next to Abigail's mouth, the moment she felt the dummy rubbing on her lips she took it and fell asleep.

"Seemed wrong to force it on her" I shrugged.

~*O*~

It's been seven agonizing weeks and I wasn't closer to finding Irene than I was when I started.

I studied a map I taped to the wall. Colorful tacks were pinned to it, indicating places in which Irene was spotted. A long thread twisted around the pins, creating a route.

"Belgium, Spain, Saudi Arabia, Belgium again, Egypt, Japan, France, Spain…" I chanted. She was all over the place, never using the same Alias twice. I hated to admit it but her action seemed completely random, therefore, unpredictable.

"Boys. I'm going shopping. You need anything?" Mrs. Hudson announced from downstairs.

"Some peace and quiet would be nice, thank you." I answered and returned to the map.

"Where are you Irene Adler?" I was recalling national holidays of each state she was at, trying to see if maybe she chose to participate or avoid these type of occasions when John entered the room.

"Sherlock, I'm needed at the clinic, I won't be long" he headed to the door while wearing his coat.

"What is it with you people and constant updates? Next you're going to inform me when you're going to the toilet?" I snapped.

"I just… Never mind, see you later" he fixed the collar of his coat and left.

"Right, now, where was I?"

I've started going over Irene's route again when Abigail started moving uncomfortably in her crib. "Don't you dare!" I mumbled. She kept moving, even more frantically and I found myself praying that it won't turn to something louder but sure enough – It did.

"Please be quiet, I'm trying to find your mother so you could return to her and we could both be happy", I've tried reasoning with her but apparently delayed gratification wasn't one of her stronger abilities. Her cries grew louder and at some point I found myself making a long "Ahhh" sound, trying to be louder than her so I don't have to hear it.

Ah, the joy of parenthood.

~*O*~

 ** _A/N:_** _This chapter may or may not have been inspired by real life events… lol._

 _Seriously though, a tip for parenting life – People will help you way more if you appear clueless. Took 5 whole weeks before I've had to change a loaded diaper by myself._

 _Reviews are much appreciated._


	4. Chapter 4

**John**

"Aw, the poor thing…" Mrs. Hudson told me, as we were both sitting for tea in her apartment.

"Yes, I feel bad for her too but hopefully he will come around soon and then in the long run she'll be just fine" I reasoned.

"Actually, I was talking about Sherlock. He can barely take care of himself, let alone another human being" she seemed like she was on the verge of giving up and rushing to Sherlock's aid.

"He has to learn! He's been slacking off from all his parent duties and by helping him we're enabling him. Heck, if I wasn't a doctor she wouldn't have gotten any vaccines" I explained.

Upstairs I've heard Abbie crying even louder and then Sherlock's voice joined hers…

 _Serves you right for thinking you can_ _trick me into being your nanny_ I thought.

"Should have added 'babies' to the 'no pets allowed' section in his contract." Mrs. Hudson sighed.

"You should have, but then he wouldn't have been able to sign it seeing as he is a big old baby!" the loud cacophony started getting on my nerves.

Suddenly the noise was replaced with a soft violin tune, and before we knew it, Abbie went quiet.

 **Sherlock**

It felt like the baby and me were in a screaming competition, and I wasn't going to let her win.

While still yelling, I reached for my violin, and placed it on my shoulder. Raising the bow I shouted "Let's see you beat that!" I've started playing a complicated piece I was working on, channeling all my frustration to the instrument.

To my surprise, Abigail didn't raise to the challenge and instead stopped crying and turned her head to the source of the sound, her eyes met me and then a wide smile spread on her face.

"Well what do you know?" I said, and kept playing. She was a fantastic crowd and waved her hand and legs, making high-pitched noises.

"You think this one's good? Wait till you hear the piece I wrote about your mother." and with that I started playing yet another complex piece I've compose after meeting Irene.

When John came back he found me sitting on the couch, holding Abbie in one hand and the violin in the other.

"Were there any trouble while I was away?" John asked.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." I told him, then after some thought I said.

"You know, I have taken your help for granted these past seven weeks, and I know it must've been hard for you. You're a better father to Abigail than her own biological father. In fact, I want you to be her godfather".

John seemed dumbfounded by my out of character words "Sherlock, I'm surprised… I… I don't know what to…", coming back to his senses he cleared his throat then said "I'll be honored".

"Good, now could you please put her in her crib?" I handed her to him.

"Yes of course," he rushed to my side to take her, looking at her in a whole new light – his goddaughter.

 _Well, he won't pull a disappearing trick on my again_ I thought with a sheepish grin, _Next time you stage your exit don't forget your bag._

~*O*~

 ** _A/N:_** _Spoiler alert – there will be a moment in your first days as a parent when your child would go quiet listening to some Mozart and you would be sure you've brought a musical prodigy into this world… but then they would be just as quiet when you'd turn the washing machine on and you would no longer be so sure._

 _But you'd love them just the same though._

 _Reviews are much appreciated._


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